A Menace Beneath Lucis
by RecastAnonymous
Summary: Allow me to regale you with a tale.


**Authors Note/ Important Notice:**

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Good day to all of my readers! It has become apparent to me that since I started writing here, my technique has improved dramatically. I am aware that in the past year, I have understood that using complex, emotive language in ever sentence actually ruins the flow of my stories, as well as making them overly poetic and hard to understand. Because of this, I have started experimenting with altering my writing style to fit the fandom of which I am writing for. This also means that I could possibly be either deleting my old fics or just (more probably) re-writing them, until I am happy with what I have produced. As some of these fics were released back in 2014/15 and have minimal chapters, this change in my understanding of writing could also account to why I have had no motivation to continue them. I am also entering this fic with a clear idea of how I wish for the story to progress, possibly aiding me in writing something that I could consider beautiful. I am a huge fan of the Final Fantasy series and have conducted a menagerie of theories related to XV. I hope to try and include as many of them as I can within this Ardyn based fic. I will digress, this fic is based around a massive chapter thirteen spoiler- and so I would not recommend reading any further than this if you have not yet finished the game. All similarities with the reveal of the true past plot are entirely coincidental. Also, a huge shout out to my good friend Sho for having a shared theory of mine, one of which is quite prominent in chapters to come, regarding Gentiana.

In this fic, there is already a reign of Lucian kings, as opposed to Ardyn being the first and chosen child of light. Please don't correct me on this fact; I know that Ardyn was in fact rejected the throne by a jealous king and astral's deeming him impure!

Thus, without further ado, please read, rate and review my current fic: _A Menace Beneath Lucis._

 _Enjoy!_

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 **A Menace Beneath Lucis: Chapter One - Orange :**

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 **.**

The object of choice or of divine favor-

A man without hope and no room to waiver-

The 'chosen one's' calling, to city and throne-

A man who is destined to fight on his own.

.

A man who craves nothing yet's guaranteed all's-

Still a boy who still fears straying his own cities walls.

And his father stands tall for his two son's well-being-

While his brother forbids the two ever agreeing.

.

He's a man of his people; a true child of light.

A man who delivers from all darkness blight.

While he lay beneath washes of setting sun's orange-

.

Orange...

"Why does nothing rhyme with 'orange'?" With the conspicuous, repetitive tap of his pen, the second born son of Lucis declared his defeat to the hands of his poetry. Ardyn Lucis-Caelum: the child of royalty had found his sanctuary from the high demand of his everyday life trapped within fiction. Behind the closed doors of his bedroom was a fantasy place, locked away from reality- somewhere that he could rant, vent and reminisce his decisions in an art from. Ever since he'd picked up the first edition of the 'Encased Goddess Collection' back in his early teens, the adolescent had been captivated by the power of emotive language. No one could persuade him otherwise that the Gentiana flowers that grew in the bordering gardens of the citadel were any more beautiful than the contents of a thesaurus. The words kept him sane; they gave him a distraction from his responsibilities and helped him view things from an abstract perspective. It was practical, to some extent, with his royalty was well.

Ardyn sighed. He didn't have much longer to finish writing before his brother would call him for supper, crashing him into a sudden retreat back to his princely livelihood. The young man closed his notebook. _Oh_ how he was looking forward to his Ikura, Ponzu and Pickled Vegetables, topped with an absent father and table banter. Everyday life would be so much more tolerable if only he had substantial company to thrive off of- the likes of family that would care for him. Unfortunately, in the rare occasions of which his father would grace his presence at the dinner table, Ardyn's excitement would be short lived to the hands of 'duty'.

 _'Your Majesty, there is audience required in the throne room'_

 _'Your Majesty, the army requires assistance.'_

 _'Your Majesty, your sons hardly require a father, would you kindly care to pretend they neglect to exist?' -_ Should summarize what the advisers really meant to say, or so Ardyn believed. It hurt him, there was no denying that fact; not so much due to the gravitating feeling of abandonment- but more so that he knew that his father wanted more for his sons. He knew that if they were some other, average middle class citizens from Insomnia, they'd be a stronger, more relatable family unit. _Hell, his mother might even still be alive_. Whatever they 'could have been' was not of this reality- and so all Ardyn could do was fantasize his preferred quality of life and display his thoughts in the little notebook he called his _only friend_.

"Highness?" A familiar voice sounded at the door. "Your supper is ready to be served in the main hall. Are you ready to come down?" Aramis was Ardyn's most trusted advisor, raised at his side since childhood. He was a good man, yet one who's demenour never created a comforting atmosphere, keeping them distant all the same; once again, friendship favored duty. _Typical_. Upon receiving no answer, he knocked again. "Highness?"

"Just coming, keep it hot for me." Ardyn sighed, discarding his pen into a small jam jar on his bedside cabinet and popping his hip as he rose to a stand. It seemed like it _wouldn't_ be his brother calling him for supper, just Aramis as usual. Between Aramis and Gilgamesh, his sword and shield mainly served as messengers for the lazy prince he refereed to as his rival to the throne. Izunia, the first born; the perfect son and one who's people admired him for all he stood to be. He was Ardyn's idol, over anything else. However, having that competition there gave the adolescent something to strive for, something that could give him an excuse to do the best of someone better. Izunia wasn't destined to be next in line. In fact, it was a decision that would be made on the eve of Ardyn's 20th birthday, in order to test his worth. Six and a half months from now. Ardyn fantasized the eyes of _his_ people at night, and whenever sleep would come, he would dream of waking up to his own sons, his own duty and his own proof of royalty. _His_ throne.

"I'll keep it in the oven, sire."

Ardyn shook his head of intrusive thoughts. His time would come- but as of now, it was time for supper and nothing else.

.

.

.

"Take your time." Izunia placed his remark with a gentle chuckle. "May Shiva have frozen your veg by the hour you come out of your room."

"Stop talking like dad." Ardyn groaned and flicked his eyes toward everyone in the room. Izunia, Gilgamesh, Aramis, as well as Dallin and Rowen, Izunia's sword and shield, watched him closely as he approached the banquet table. They each nodded their heads in acknowledgement; a simple act of respect. A shrill screech echoed around the main hall as Ardyn pulled his chair back, slumping onto the cushion that padded its brass seat and tucking himself back in again. Mmm- Cucumber salad. _Again._ There was pickled vegetables- and then there was cucumber salad with every meal ever put on this god-damn table. Ardyn bored himself, staring at his 'cuisine' and pushing the greens around his plate, occasionally picking at his Ikura and staring down at his reflection in the Ponzu.

"Not feeling hungry?" Izunia crossed his cutlery and gazed warmly in his brothers direction. "We have leftovers from the royal council the other night. What do you fancy?"

"Oranges." Ardyn spoke without thinking, confusing himself as he pondered over his answer.

"Oranges?" His brother was equally as shocked. "Isn't that more of a desert fruit?"

"I was wondering why nothing rhymes with orange."

"Why?" Izunia paused in thought. "Ah- pondering your poetry again? Sometimes I regret ever buying you that anthology."

"I mean it." Silence befell the table, all eyes on the younger prince. "It's such an important colour. Our oracle, Gentiana, the flowers she was named after are blue, the complimentary colour of orange. It's also the primary colour of the great astral Ifrit; doesn't he feel left out? Also-"

"You're thinking way too much into this." The elder sibling raised his hand in protest, smirking from the corner of his lips, unable to contain his amusement. "There is a word that rhymes with orange, it just hasn't been invented yet." Izunia re-took his knife and fork between thumb and fore-finger. "Who knows, you might be the one to invent it."

Ardyn pouted. "Yeah, I guess." He slouched in his chair once again; the adolescent had never noticed before how his stance had stiffened and rose with a high energy drive.

"But seriously now, what do you fancy?"

"Anything but cucumber friggin' salad."

Gilgamesh choked on his swig of saké, discretely nudging Aramis in the ribs. "What did I tell ya?" He smirked, wincing as the jab was retaliated. "The same old same old gets boring after a while."

Aramis coughed, cheeks deepening in colour, as he noticed the elder prince gaze in his direction with a sense of urgency. "My apologies, Highness. should I put something else together?"

"No need." Izunia reassured. "Ardyn, go with Rowen to the kitchen and put something together from the leftover refrigerator. I'm sure something will take your fancy." His gaze continued to cling to Aramis. "Besides, I need to talk to your advisers. Nothing serious, however I don't want your company present."

Ardyn pasued, suddenly in wonder, however rose to a stand with the designated other none-the-less. His eyes flicked to Rowen on the other side of the table. "Sure." His voice cracked with curiosity. "Something going on that I should know about?"

"Clearly not if I don't want you in the room."

"Right."

"Come, sire." Rowen spoke up, his hoarse voice resonating around the closed room. "Let us leave your brother in peace. I'll find you something more-" His sharp eyes pierced through the increasingly apprehensive Aramis, a playful smirk belittling his peer. "-delectable."

.

.

.

Ardyn spent the majority of his time in the kitchen staring his brother's sword up and down, analyzing what sort of personality traits he may have by his aesthetic approach. As far as the young Caelum was aware, Rowen came from a family in high regard to his father, raised with an attitude that contoured to the needs of his or her king. This man in particular presented himself as a very dignified young adult, with slicked back hair tied up in a low pony tail that fell to his shoulders, locks that were tainted with various shades of a platinum blonde and layered around the back. His anchor shaped beard was similar, crisply shaven to 6mm cut and aided the definition of a sharp, boxed jawline. His hand-sewn Lucian garbs took the form of a behemoth skin tailcoat, bred and slain from the northern regions of Niflheim, worn over an aristocrat flounce beneath a breasted waistcoat. The natural browns and grays that formed the outfits colour scheme highlighted the mans tanned skin; he truly was a sight to the eyes. Ardyn pouted. Not only did Izunia have advisers that were older than Aramis and Gilgamesh- but they were also better looking. _It wasn't fair._ Rowen in particular was twenty-four, while Aramis was only nineteen, the same age as his Highness.; it made sense, since Izunia was twenty three, soon to be twenty-four on the day that Ardyn turned twenty. _Not even his birthday was exclusive._ However, with age came wisdom, and so it was imperative that the eldest son receive the level of support that he needed.

"What specifically are you in the mood for, Your Highness?" Rowen pondered into an open fridge. "There's Zu fillet, Allural Bass if you fancy seafood, salad-"

"Just a salad." Ardyn concluded. "Oh- can you chop up some of dad's behemoth tenderloin and throw it in there?"

Rowen froze. "I'm not sure His Majesty would appreciate me-"

"I'm his son. If he isn't going to be around to cook for me, why should I-"

"Sire, you know that isn't his choice."

"I don't care!" Ardyn snapped. His mentality was jumbled tonight; it was hard to focus on one thing at a time. "You asked me what I fancy, now cook it." The frustrated prince began clawing at his palm. "It might be nice to have someone listen to me- to have my dreams become realities; my fiction become fact! It'll be nice to know whatever Izunia is keeping from me; whatever my advisers aren't _'advising me'_ about. It'll be nice to actually see-"

 _A pause._

"Ardyn."

The man in question snapped his head toward the door in response to a familiar voice.

"Father?"

Kind, old eyes thawed his son's cold energy with an air of affection. King Monori, the thirteenth known monarch to Lucis, stood in the doorway, resting his hip against the wall and clutching his worn, oak walking stick beneath a weak fist. "What's this attitude about?" He staggered toward his youngest. "Surely this isn't all about my behemoth tenderloin."

Ardyn lowered his gaze, suddenly embarrassed. "Sorry. I've just got a lot on my mind right now..." he admitted, quickly, shamefully.

"Oh?" The king took his helping to a small pot of leftover pickled cucumbers that had been left on the counter. "Do tell. Rowen-" Monori batted his hand, signalling for the royal adviser to take his leave; he did so without delay. _Finally, they were alone._ Well- u _ntil 'duty' came, at least._ Monori continued to limp toward a finely carved, cream pedestal marble dining table that sat in the center of the room, trying his hardest to hide the way his hip collapsed as he approached the matching set of chairs. Acting as though he flamboyantly sat down was a good cover up- but the reality of his father's weakness continued to break Ardyn's heart. The king was only fifty-eight- he shouldn't be nearly this fragile. To this day, neither of his sons knew the contents of their old man's past. Monori caught his breath and motioned for Ardyn to join him. "Go on."

"It's not exactly that simple."

"How do you mean?"

"As in... putting it into words-"

"Don't talk nonsense, you talk enough. You could talk for the sake of Insomnia."

"That's not what I mean-"

"Then what do you mean."

"I mean, I'm sick of having to figure things out on my own." Ardyn paused, afraid that his father would interject again. When he was greeted with a familiar silence, he continued. "I know I'm good at talking, dad. I'm good at it because I write, and I write because I have so many ideals going on in my head. The truth is, I miss being told how the world works. I miss having you and Izunia read me stories of great kings in fairy-tail lands, where everything ended in a _'happily ever after'._ I miss not knowing what words like _death_ or _terrorism_ really meant- and actually believing that Mom would come back." Ardyn's voice cracked and he was suddenly unable to hide his emotions. Tears drained from his eyes, staining his cheeks and tainting them with a deep blush. Monori chuckled sadly. Despite the way that his hands began shaking from the effort it took to lift his joints so high, he pulled his son into a gentle embrace, however Ardyn rejected the sympathetic intention and stared down at the floor, continuing after a moments hesitation. "One day, you were telling me that you were my 'golden light' and I could always turn to you when the world became a dark, cold place. The next- I needed to grow up and figure out that the world isn't one perfect fantasy tale. It's fucked up."

"Ardyn-"

"Shut up! Why are you never around? I didn't _choose_ to become a prince!"

"Ardyn-"

"I didn't _ask_ to have to arrange an audience in order to see you between the hours of nine and five."

"Ardyn Lucis-"

"I didn't choose to be born into a family where I feel like I need a body guard at my side just to tell my own father that I regret ever growing up and that I miss-"

"ARDYN LUCIS-CAELUM!" The kings voice bellowed around the kitchen- but Ardyn didn't wait around to see his father's response. Fueled with a nasty combination of adrenaline, fear, vexation and desolation, the young prince fled the room, brushing past his brother on the way out; _he had obviously heard the commotion_.

"Ardyn!" Izunia tried his hardest to reach out to his sibling, however the state of his father was something of which he considered a much higher priority. He gazed into the smaller room, down toward the tipped-over jar of pickled cucumbers and back up to the king, eyes filled with heartache. "Dad..."

.

.

.

Ardyn cried into his pillow that night; he cried earnestly for the first time since he was a vulnerable young child. His eyes were wide, empty- motionless and blood-shot. Originally, his intention was to let his eyes go so dry that their lids would be unusually weighed down, sending him off to a much appreciated sleep. However, sleep never came. Instead, Ardyn found himself at 11:58PM, gazing up at the ceiling, chest heaving and body tense from erratic, yet painfully silent sobbing. It wasn't until he received a knock at the door that he finally blinked.

"Ardyn?"

 _God he was sick of his own name this evening._ How many times had he heard it? Twenty? Thirty? In what? Anger? Regret? Loathing? Ardyn frantically wiped his eyes, turning his attention toward the door as it opened, creasing an old poem that had been torn from a notebook and discarded to the floor: some old junk about _purity_ and _love_.

"Are you still awake?"

"Izunia?" The youngest sibling sat up on the edge of his bed as he gazed into his brother's assiduous eyes. He sighed, conscious of himself in the presence of someone so strong, while he had never felt so defenseless. "I'm really sorry about earlier. I was-"

"Listen-" The elder prince swallowed, speaking without restraint.

"What?"

"We need to talk."

Ardyn's heart sank in his chest.

"What do you mean."

 _A pause._

Ardyn's voice wavered, as he cocked his head and rose to a stand. "Izunia?-"

"It's about father."

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 **Chapter One: Orange - END**

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Thank you all for sticking around with me to read the first chapter of 'A Menace Beneath Lucis'. _I do not own Final Fantasy and am not a working member of Square Enix. This piece is purely a work of fiction, written by a fan and intended for fans to read. This is a completely non-profit project._ I hope from the bottom of my heart that you enjoyed this chapter and that you will continue to follow this story until the end! Until next time!


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